


Every now and then I fall apart

by hylander



Category: Hit the Floor (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Not A Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-18 18:01:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15491547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hylander/pseuds/hylander
Summary: "There wasn’t a well-defined moment he could point at and say ‘That’s where it went wrong’, but there was a multitude of moments he remembered thinking ‘That’s not what should be happening’."OR. Zero doesn't have one good reason to say no, but rather a hundred.





	Every now and then I fall apart

**Author's Note:**

> This one-shot isn't an actual fix-it, because it doesn't 'fix' the fact that they ripped apart a perfect couple, it's just that i felt like most people are considering Jude's sides of things because, well, he's the only one we get to see. I gave it a lot of thoughts and this work is, to me, the only angle where things actually might have gone wrong; but again, it's only the most logical explanation to me for something that doesn't make sense in the first place. I love Jude dearly, but i feel like Zero was always underestimated by the poor writing of the show and with that awful ending the show pulled up, i just wanted to give him some room to explain his side of things.

It was all Jelena's fault. Mostly. 

And it was Jude's fault. Partly. 

And it was his own fault. Kind of. Whether it was _tremendously_ because of him or not at all, someone else would have to decide. 

Zero didn’t know when it all started to go downhill. There wasn’t a well-defined moment he could point at and say ‘That’s where it went wrong’, but there was a multitude of moments he remembered thinking ‘That’s not what should be happening’. 

First it was the bouquet, during Derek and Ahsha’s very wedding. That stupid bouquet, flung from the balcony, which by some weird, nasty trick, fell onto his shoulder and then directly in Jude’s hands. Zero wanted to rip it apart, set it on fire, and then throw the ashes right in the Ocean. He had never been a big believer in luck and fate. It would imply that everything was written from the beginning, and it led people to think that shitty, painful years had been worth it. No amount of pain whatsoever was ever worth it, Zero wanted to scream. And so he had watched as Jude stared at the bouquet, taken aback. 

 _No,_ Zero had thought. 

And thinking back, that’s the first time the word had popped up in his mind. There was no way in hell he would hand over his marriage to the only person he had ever loved, to _fucking fate_. He had given Jude a smirk, because that’s what was expected from him, and Jude had laughed it off, albeit blushing, and that was it. 

Then it was that crown, graciously handed by Jelena. 

The ultimate crown of thorns, King and King of LA. _What a joke_. He had loved the sound of that, at first. Before it had any real meaning. Before it became a destination. Before it became the actual Goal. Zero had spent much of his life setting himself goals and milestones. It was the only way out of it, out of this mess that had been his life; it was the only way to keep going, one step after the other. But with Jude everything was different. For the first time he seemed to be able to enjoy life as it came. How could such a change happen? Simple. It had taken a limo. A limo, and Jude, and a kiss. That limo crashed everything Zero had in mind; from then on, he was in automatic pilot. After that, there was no turning back, no matter how much he had been trying to convince himself. After that, it was Jude, Jude, _Jude,_ it was Jude’s lips, and Jude’s body, and Jude’s love. 

 _No,_ Zero had thought. 

Jude wasn’t a goal. Jude wasn’t a milestone. His life with him wasn’t built on some project, it was just the soft pleasure of being completely in love with someone, being dedicated to someone else’s happiness; just experiencing the comfort and the safety brought to him by the feeling of being loved, truly and utterly, no matter what. Gideon and Zero had faded altogether to bring to life this better version of himself. A version that couldn’t admit that his happiness could be threatened by something as stupid as PR stunts. 

Because that’s what came right after, right? _PR stunts_. Los Angeles, City of Angels. The City of a billion PR agencies. The eye of the cyclone. And they were right in the middle of it. At first, every time they got papped during a brunch, during a night out, during their vacations, Zero smiled politely, clenching his fists in an effort to make it smooth for Jude. Jelena was his boyfriend’s boss. She was in charge, she was leading the boat. So he smiled, and he pretended he didn’t mind, mostly because he wanted Jude to think he was tougher than that, but also because he knew he had dug his own grave with it. He was the King of PR stunts. “Christian boy”, “Bad boy”, even his “relationship” with Jelena. He had pulled so many tricks over the years that he couldn’t blame other people for thinking it was alright to go at 100%.

It wasn’t.

It wasn’t alright.

And Zero started to suffocate. It got worse every time he wasn’t holding Jude tightly at a premiere, every time they would walk outside of their house and Zero would drop Jude’s hand. It got worse every time Zero glared around at the people calling them out from behind his sunglasses. 

Zero was one of those people who was literally _glowing;_ providing he wanted to look good or seductive, he was as lethal as poison. People all over the world gushed over his washboard abs, his enticing smirks, his burning glances. He had gotten girls and boys in his bed without even opening his mouth, just by smirking and nodding twice, and here they were, throwing themselves at him. All of it had a downside, however. When he didn’t want any of it to happen, it showed as well. Too much to Jelena’s taste — and the whole lot of paparazzi. Tabloids noticed, and blogs noticed. Zero glared, and gave cold smiles; there was no need to be a professional in body-language to see that Zero was always walking with his hands shoved in his pockets or standing arms crossed. People had signed up for a hot, gay couple - Jelena yelled at him once. Not two housemates never sharing a glance and with one looking pissed from 8AM to 2AM, no matter the circumstances. Zero wasn’t selling the dream. Zero wasn’t selling at all; save for those who started saying that there was trouble in paradise. 

It hurt Jude. Naturally. 

It hurt Zero as well. 

Thing was, Zero was possessive, but not necessarily the way everyone thought he was. He was never leaving noticeable hickeys, because he knew Jude hated it and he hated to make him uncomfortable — flustered, alright, but never ashamed or publicly embarrassed. He was never publicly kissing him, nor _touching him_ , really. PDA had been off the table for him as soon as Jelena started pushing for more. _Why are you such a pussy now?_ , she had yelled at him, because God knew he had turned out to be the only one on Earth she was yelling at, since Terrence had left. The real question was: what had changed, between him and Jelena, and him and Jude? What had changed was that he _cared_. The reason why he wasn’t kissing Jude publicly was because he couldn’t help that horribly embarrassing blush from creeping up to his cheeks. He never touched him because he would most likely be tempted to drag him away from the prying eyes. He kept glaring and not smiling, because people were pawing over things he wanted to keep private. Because whenever he was with Jude, there wasn’t just Zero, there was Gideon as well. 

 _If you don’t want to, just tell me. It’s okay,_ Jude had told him repeatedly.  

Except that they wouldn’t just have to cancel that brunch, and that night out, and the vacations in Capri for Zero to start breathing again. They would have to cancel it all, _everything._ It was six months after the K &K of LA circus started when Zero brought up the idea of leaving town; leaving Los Angeles, leaving the country even. Find some place in South America, or in Europe even. There wasn’t a job on Earth nowadays that couldn’t be done across from an Ocean, Bill Gates and Steve Job had proven so. Jude hadn’t taken that seriously, of course. He just thought it was one of those many “Zero” moments, where he wanted to just rub his cash in the face of everyone. Deep down, Zero was hurt. It wasn’t vacation, but an actual life-decision he was planning to make with Jude — had Jude been willing to only consider it.

Jude had kissed him, and told him things would settle. Zero had closed the tabs on his laptop regarding emigration policies and spacious houses in Lisbon, deleted history, and never brought it up again. He wasn’t sure Jude had even noticed when he left the house right after; he was busy taking a phone-call from a prospective investor. 

What happened after that? Zero couldn’t really tell. Some part of him thought it was just all of it slowly working to make his life a living hell. It wasn’t brand new information that Zero was the jealous type, but being jealous of your female boss being all over your gay boyfriend was awkward even to him. And yet, you may think, _yet_ it happened. It wasn’t strictly jealousy. Zero hardly cared when Jelena was giving Jude one of her oh-so-rare smiles, but he did care whenever she was forcing Jude to stay half the night at the Arena to sort out whatever they were working on at the time. He did care whenever she was looking down at him because he ‘didn’t get the subtleties’ and eventually shared a knowing look with Jude. He did care whenever Jude came home late, only to be told that ‘Jelena and I agreed that-’. 

It happened. Not once, not twice, but a hundred times. Maybe Zero could have found an ally and a common ground with Lionel, except he didn’t; for the most part, his life had just become a hate-triangle. He hated Jelena, Jelena hated Lionel; and Lionel, despite her beautiful speeches, hardly trusted Zero. 

It would have been unfair to state that his relationship with Jude was strained. It wasn’t. When it was just them, nothing else existed, nothing else even mattered. Whenever Jude was hugging him (Zero tended to become cuddly with the years, apparently), whenever they were kissing, whenever they were sharing a joke or a soft look in the morning, Zero always wanted to slap himself. _Stop whining, and enjoy your life_. But then someone else would bring them back to reality. The hard, lonely reality that Zero’s life started to become, with less and less Jude, and more and more Jelena, and more and more Devils Nation. Everything was fine when it was just them, except it wasn’t just them anymore. 

And Jude? Jude was fine with all of it. Don’t get him wrong, Jude wasn’t a show-man, he didn’t particularly seek tabloids’ and paparazzi’s attention, no, but his business skills were what made it all more bearable. Outside of restoring the image of the Devils, the K&K of LA circus was Jude’s free-ticket to become someone outside of his father; it was what made him suddenly interesting, relevant; it was what made him be taken seriously. How could a few tabloids get the disowned kid of an alleged murderer to be taken seriously, you would ask? Precisely because it was handled the right way, Zero presumed. 

Precisely because Jude (and Jelena) knew how to blow hot or when to blow cold, with just the right amount for people to get impressed. Zero couldn’t pretend he got it. Most of his plans had ended up backfiring right in his face, hence probably why he wasn’t willing to play dirty anymore. Hence why he didn’t fight more. Hence why he let things go by. 

To a certain point. 

 _No,_ Zero had thought. 

It was all there. 

It was written all over the ring Jude was offering him, words so small that only Zero seemed to be able to see them. Trophy Husband, Gideon Kinkade. It was Jelena and Jude agreeing on the trendiest spot for their engagement party to take place, for the insane number of tabloids that would get the news ‘leaked’, for the interviews that would follow. It was their wedding being handled by professionals, it would be private and ultra-select, but all the pictures from the ceremony would make the tabloids before the end of the night. A rookie would mess everything up with a few hookers, a titular player would be caught in a tripping incident, a season would bring less profit than expected, and all eyes would be on them all over again… A new house, a new contract, a baby even. 

Jude didn’t want kids. Zero had never given it much thought at all. And yet, he could see it. He could see Jelena somehow managing to persuade them to adopt, or to get a surrogate; literally anything as long as it would keep them all under the spotlight, in the most flattering way. It would never stop. 

It was suffocating. 

It was infuriating. Most of all, it was absolutely terrifying. 

Jude, despite it all, had fallen in love with Zero. He had learned to know Gideon afterwards. The new version of Gideon was still a little messy, still a little broken around the edges, but more assured overall, a sexy, cocky Gideon, a _hybrid_. What he was turning into, what he was becoming, was darker and more tortured, closer to Gideon that he had ever been since Zero was born. That ring wasn’t offered to Gideon, it was offered to _Zero._ But how could he tell that to someone, _anyone_ , how could he even put it in the right words, without sounding like a crazy person, like a lunatic? How could he simply tell someone that _he was not okay_ , because his life with Jude had been designed for Zero, and not Gideon? 

Jude had been looking at him expectantly, with that newly found assurance that usually looked ridiculously hot, but gave Zero even more food for thought in that very moment. Zero had stared at the ring, his eyes widening more than he would have thought — because, really, some part of him knew it would come someday —, travelling from the ring to Jude, to the people staring at them all around in the crowded restaurant, photographers out front, a duo of gossip bloggers two tables away, an aspiring Insta-famous on the left, and behind them a columnist for _Page Six._  

It crept up inside of his chest, like a bubble forming in his lungs. It took a few seconds, really, but it lasted a lifetime.

“No,” Zero had said. 

Or more like, blurted out. 

 _No._  

Not here. 

Not now. 

_Not that way._


End file.
